Tessa, She Took Me For A Ride

Once I oogled her LV scarf.
She only ever wears crusty matt black
Ferragamo ballet shoes.
And a branded tote bag–I forgot the name.
And her false lash extensions
would leave you feeling–what?
Less than beautiful?

So she kept fending off
lecherous men on Facebook.
Her almond eyes and skin belied
that she’s nearing sixty.
I skittered around her in
my yellow and mauve drawstring blouse
and a puffy skirt.

If beguilement is a game,
she aced it. Lost in her little judgmental
taste in refinement. So you felt
pulled into the heft of her argument
as if she had always loved you.
Oh the deceit of it! Oh the lack!
Oh flattery with a cobra bite!

Prompt: You know how people hold you hostage. They do. Their discourse kind of shapes your viewpoint if you hung out with them often enough. That is why you should be ever discerning about who you let into your circle. Your circle is your world. If you have a person in your circle who talks plenty, in a persuasive, intimate-like way, a sort of osmosis takes place so their view starts to blend into your own. Then you wake up one day and realize that hey, I have my own point of view and it’s different. A friend who doesn’t admit and respect another viewpoint is not worth having in your circle. Why do I talk about this stuff? Well, perhaps I do have an axe to grind. But more than that, you need to know how to choose a friend. Or why you’re the chosen one. And your choice has to be based on something more solid than liking the same fashion style, for instance, or liking someone’s make-up. That’s just one level of friendship. We all need to know who our real soul mates are.

…I need a mark, a tattoo,
etched on the arch of my foot, telling me
what to hold, clutch only what is mine.
–Aimee Nezhukumatathil, “Bee Wolf”

Write about friendship.


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